Over the Edge
by Terrorking Tragedian
Summary: Alternate ending to You Gotta Not Fight for Your Right to Party episode. What if the cliff was two hundred feet? And an escape attempt failed? What happens after the tragedy? Read and find out! Focus is on the first two chapters the rest is just fillers.
1. Over the Edge

Sudden inspiration is more powerful than any vitalizing medicine, and after watching "You Gotta Not Fight for your Right to Party" I had a little 'sugar' rush. What if that cliff indeed was 200 feet high? How might things have turned out? Add a little imagination, a pinch of drama, and BAM! You get a good story!

Here I go! The alternate ending of Hannah Montana episode "You Gotta Not Fight For Your Right To Party"!

I feel so uncertain at the moment, however. I don't know which perspective is better for me; the first person view (using the word "I"), or third-person view (telling the story as the narrator). I'm trying to tell the story through Miley's eyes but it's not working very well in third-person view, so I changed it into a series of first-person view passages. How well did that go?

Disclaimer: I don't own Hannah Montana.

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"Jackson, you're a genius, and my hero!" I squealed with delight while powdering my face with make-up.

I was exhilarated beyond words. Getting Lilly and Oliver to pose as Jackson and I was a stroke of brilliance! One that probably won't come back to Jackson for another ten years. By hiring Lilly and Oliver to pose as our 'decoys', we were able to sneak out of the house, Dad totally oblivious to the plan. Jackson borrowed his friend Thor's truck so that he may take Sierra Grace (some hot date of his) to 'Panic! At the Disco', taking me dressed as Hannah to Beyonce's party along the way.

Feeling what I said just now was a little out-of-character and awkward, I added, remembering the fact that we had been feuding over practically everything for quite a while,

"...until we get back home, and I will hate you again."

"Right back at yah." Jackson replied calmly. "Now, careful with the make-up; I promised Thor I wouldn't mess up his truck." he added as an afterthought.

With sarcasm, I quipped back, "Oh yeah. I need to get blush on his half-eaten hoakie!" I held in my hand a half-eaten taco. **(A/N: No I didn't hear this part very clearly nor did I understand her. I'm just trying to mimic the script best I can.)**

Jackson gave me an incredulous smile and said, "Just stop complaining. You know we couldn't have taken my car out without tipping of Dad." Glancing the taco, he snatched it and added, "And I'd call dips!" before sinking his teeth into it.

With just as much sarcasm as just now, I remarked bitingly, "Oh yeah. That Sierra Grace is one lucky girl!" _Boys! Eating is all that matters to them! They eat anything half-edible, don't they?_

Shifting my gaze out of the window, I immediately began to worry about the thick fog that permeated the air. _How do we get anywhere with all this fog around us?_

Feeling a slight shill of ominousness, I stuttered, "Jackson, are you sure...we're on the right way? I-I-I think we missed our turn." I began craning my neck, looking around through the windows for a road sign or a turn with no avail.

Unfortunately, Jackson was overly self-confident. With half-laughter in his voice, he said, "There's no turn! I would have seen the turn!"

But I knew better. We've been driving in this labyrinth for nearly twenty minutes. With panic in my voice, I exclaimed despairingly, "How can you see anything with this fog? Face it, we're lost!"

Jackson felt the remark as an attack to his pride. He quickly rebutted me, "We're not lost! We just..." But even he himself was not sure regarding their whereabouts. Panic encroached upon his heart too as he tried to shut his sister up to prevent losing his own head as well, "...not there yet! Stop nagging me, woman!"

"I'm not nagging you! Deer!"

Jackson thought I said "dear". He replied in kind, with sarcasm.

"Whatever you say. Honey."

Frantically, I yelled, "No! DEER!"

Jackson looked harder through the windshield, and swerved violently to the left, narrowly avoiding a collision with a deer.

"WHOA!"

The truck tyres screeched with ear-splitting violence as the truck swung left and right, Jackson all the while trying to stabilise us and keep this truck from tipping over. _Man, he ain't that good a driver now, is he? No wonder he never keeps his girlfriends! _

We were thrown violently around along with the truck's crazed charge. Well, at least he missed the deer.

Then the truck lunged downwards, threatening to tip over. It stopped suddenly, as if stuck on something. It took me a few seconds to register the fact that we were completely motionless.

Breathless with fear, I berated him with bated breath.

"Nice going, Ricky Bobby! You could've driven us a cliff!"

Jackson, trying to redeem himself in both our eyes, remarked half-happily, "But I didn't! Because I have lightning-fast reflexes, and I cool with the..."

"AAAAHHH!"

The truck tipped steeply forwards like a roller coaster beginning to fly down a 90 degrees slope. An intense sensation quite like the one I felt while aboard a plane encountering merciless air turbulence pressed my chest and guts like a thousand ton weight. I screamed in terror, gripping the sides of my seat so tightly my fingernails might have dug into the seat cover. I began to sweat nervously, my heart started thumping wildly, and I felt an odd sensation grip her lungs tight, forcing air out of her chest. That feeling was remarkably similar to the ominous nervousness people felt when sitting in a roller coaster or any related rides, waiting for their doom.

"WHOA! Whoa!"

Beside me, Jackson also felt that same unpleasant swooping sensation as the truck tipped forward dangerously. He clutched the steering wheel very tightly, threatening to rip it off the controls, and gasped loudly in surprise more than fear.

Strapped tightly in my seat, I could have sworn I was never as terrified as I was then in my entire life. What's happening? Am I to die in fear, helplessly trapped in the truck, awaiting my doom?

Jackson mirrored my thoughts. In utmost terror, both of us quietly screamed the name of the person whom we had earlier tried to avoid but now needed more than we've ever dreamed of.

"DADDY!"

My voice was unnaturally high. Jackson's voice sounded constricted as if his heart leapt up into his throat. Somewhere down my throat, my heart was pumping feverishly as well.

The truck tipped forward again, balanced on a stray thin tree branch. I was, by now, so scared I could hardly choke a scream. The unpleasant swooping sensation blew away all the air from my lungs and pushed my stomach into the back of my body. I gripped the seat with one hand harder than before and struggled in wild fear, pressing myself back into the seat as much as possible. Meanwhile, my other hand trying to find Jackson's as if he could provide me some comfort.

Jackson gave out a strangled cry, that intense feeling augmenting the fear in both our beating hearts.

"AAH! Aah!

I never regretted lying to Daddy more than then.

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Robbie Ray's POV:

Something didn't feel right. I swear I heard a call for help. It sounded a whole lot like Miley and Jackson. Did it come from the room...?

"Hey Jackson! Jackson!"

No response. This was most disturbing. I never suspected anything horrible to have befallen him; he's grounded and chained to this house! Yet I can't get rid of that ominous feeling in my gut...

"Hey Miley! Miley!"

The strangled voice of Miley's came from the door to her room, still peppered with that strange faked-sounding Tennessee accent.

"Yeah Dad?"

At least I know where she is. Slight relief dawned upon me.

"Where's Jackson?"

"He's asleep like a bear snoozing down winter! Y'all!"

Bear snoozing down winter. Yeah, I remembered teaching her that expression when she asked me the best way to describe Jackson in his 'deep sleep' mode.

But why am I feeling this unrest? Is it an upset stomach? Is someone in mortal danger? Or is it just about those hot ee-doggies gone bad?

Then I heard it again. A distant cry, that was. It almost sounded desperate; like it was crying and struggling, clinging on for dear life.

"...daddy!..."

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Jackson's POV:

Miley was clinging onto the edges of her seat as if her life depended on it. To be honest, our lives were depended only on the strength of that thin branch holding us up. If it snapped, we would all die. That thought alone made me sweat cold as well.

The entire view of the situation now slowly bounced around in the box of my mind. My eyes were dimming with fear, my hands were clammy and cold (still holding on to the steering wheel, hoping that would keep us up), and an odd ringing resounded in my ears.

Surprisingly, I heard Miley's desperate voice.

"Call for help! CALL FOR HELP!"

In the tense situation, she shocked me back to my senses.

"Yeah yeah yeah, I know. I-I-I would have thought of that!"

I rammed my palm into the button on the steering wheel. A pathetic moo of a cow was heard from the horn.

Evidently disappointed, Miley viciously remarked with sarcasm, "Great. Looks like the only help we'll be getting is from a lonely bull!"

I mentally cursed Thor for installing such an impractical and stupid horn.

Shaking in both body and voice, Miley asked the question we both knew not the answer.

"How far down is it?"

Angrily, impatiently perhaps, I rebutted, "How should I know?"

"Well look out the window!"

Okay that sounded alright. I moved to stick my neck out of the window to survey the surroundings.

But as I was doing it, the gingerly balanced truck lunged forward once more, causing both of us to snap back into our seats, my hands threatening to crush the steering wheel under my hands, and Miley paling with terror.

"Not like that!"

Even in a life-and-death situation, Miley still had the nerve to criticize me. Sarcastically and impatiently, I yelled at her, "Well I'm sorry I didn't bring my extendo-neck!"

I tried my best to remain calm, as did Miley, who was taking deep but quick breaths to reassure herself. She knew as well as I did that we should not make any unnecessary movement, lest the tree branch snap and we tumble to our deaths. I quickly thought up a plan to get us both out of this fix. As I unstrapped myself with shaking hands from the driver's seat, I began to formulate a plan to keep us both alive.

"Okay. Okay, look. Th-th-th-th-this is all about weight distribution. I-I-If we crawl down to the back then the truck can't tip."

Breathlessly, Miley offered to go first, undoing her seat belt at the same time.

I wanted to guarantee my survival, not hers', didn't I? I wasn't going to let up this chance.

"Whoa whoa whoa! I-I-I-I should go first because I'm heavier."

But Miley wasn't going to put her life on the line for me either. Frankly, I did have a point just now.

"Yeah, but I'm faster, which means I can get to my party quicker." She made to climb up after adding as an afterthought, "And then, you know, come back and look out for you."

And with that, she began to climb over the front seats. I was stung by her cynical behavior. Angrily, I yelled, "Whoa! I, I, I can't believe how SELFISH you're being!"

She rebutted with equal ferocity, "I'm not being selfish! I'm thinking about my millions of fans! They'll be crushed if I die."

"But...people will miss me too!"

Miley was merciless and harsh with her comebacks. Hardly surprising, judging by the way we've been feuding all this time.

"Oh please! Your teachers will go and party! Thor will be too upset about his truck, and...trust me, I'll get Daddy through it."

Miley evidently never gave a hoot about my life. Not willing to sacrifice my life for her, we both tried to get through to the back seats at the same time, and ended up jousting for it. The ominous tipping of the truck shocked us back to our seats, though.

"AAAHH!"

"Aargh!"

Okay, enough nonsensical fighting. Time to get serious, unless we not valued our lives.

"Flip a coin?"

Miley agreed. "Good idea."

She called heads. The coin landed a tails. Oh well, she got to go first.

"Two out of three?" I inquired hopefully.

"Sure, why not? Oh, that's right. Couldn't be stupid!"

Well, we got to working. I whispered a little prayer to the Lord, begging for help and forgiveness.

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Lilly's POV:

I swear it! I heard someone calling for help! It didn't come from the neighbors. Definitely not; I could feel it in my bones. But where did it come from? Where the hell is Oliver?

"OLIVER! OLIVER!"

"What?"

Oliver was practically shrinking with hunger. In this state, a boy can hardly think of much other than food.

"I heard a voice! It's calling for help!"

Oliver gave a weird look from his position of lying on his back on the floor of Miley's room, trying to lessen the hunger with gravity.

"Are you sure YOU'RE not going mad with starvation, too?"

"NO! I'm serious! It sounded like..." I focused all my attention to my ears, but somehow that voice spoke directly into my brain.

"It sounded like...it sounded like Miley! And Jackson!"

A light bulb flashed in my head. Yes, it definitely sounded like them! What is going on? Why are they calling for help? Oliver might have heard the S.O.S distress call too.

"Yeah, it does sound like Miley and Jackson."

I focused my energy and directed them into my head. This time I heard the voice clearer, and more distinct. Apparently, both Miley and Jackson were yelling at the same time...

"_Help! Daddy! Help! Somebody! Anybody!"_

"_Daddy! Rescue us! Where are you?"_

"_Lilly? Oliver?"_

"Here! I'm here!" I tried to talk to the voices, but they were deaf, only able to deliver ambiguous messages, unable to carry replies.

Oliver made to stand up.

"Shouldn't we be doing something?"

"Like what? Call Miley's phone?" I yelled, pointing to the cellphone which Miley had forgotten to take along with her.

"Jackson's?"

I didn't know Jackson's number. That left us with virtually no ways to reassure ourselves . All we could do was sit in the room and wait for this sudden weird premonition to pass. And besides, I was sure Miley and Jackson weren't in trouble, so it seemed pointless that we got ourselves in trouble as well by bumping into Mr. Stewart downstairs.

And yet, this ominousness never faded...

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Jackson's POV:

Miley was fairly small; she could have made it through the hole at the back of the passenger's cabin in the truck if it wasn't for her stupid belt that got her stuck halfway through. Sweet niblets!

I popped half my body out of the window to watch her.

"...Uh oh..."

"What?"

"My belt's caught!"

"Well then, you just try to grab on to something and pull yourself through!"

"I can't! There's nothing here but this rubber fish!" She held in her hand a once-live catch; apparently it was a real fish.

"Oh no, it's not rubber." She hurled the fish behind her; the fish landed on the front of the truck.

I decided to help. "Okay. I'm just gonna come out and pull you out."

Afraid we might lose our delicate balance, Miley exclaimed, "What!? No!"

Jarringly, I chided her with every intent to insult, "Don't worry, the weight of your BIG HEAD will keep us balanced!"

Gingerly, I made my way to the back of the truck by climbing over the roof. Lord deliver us!

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Lilly's POV:

That voice calling me was really creeping me out. Oliver didn't hear much, since about three-quarters of his brain was filled with the need for food. Nevertheless, he was disturbed about these voices.

"Shouldn't we tell someone?"

"They'll think we're mad! And besides, we'll get in trouble with Mr. Stewart if we just run up to him like SNAP and blow our cover!"

"We can't just sit here; we gotta help!"

"Help what? Help where? Help how? Help who?" These questions haunted me.

"I can only make a guess about the fourth question."

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Jackson's POV:

I clambered my way to freedom. YES! YES YES! Now to make a break for it! You have no idea how it feels like to have escaped the jaws of death so closely.

"Jackson!"

My joy was short-lived when Miley brought me back to my senses. Grudgingly, I turned back and tried to tug her out of there by pulling both her arms.

Then, to my horror, the balance on the truck shifted. A bird had landed on the truck, and is investigating the fish.

"Uh oh..."

"What's wrong?"

I dismissed it as just a bird. But then a flock of them landed on the front. Sweet niblets! This can't be happening!

My hands were clammy and cold, but not nearly as cold as Miley's. Her hands were frozen, not taking the surroundings into consideration as the temperature around us could have been only 10 degrees. Her hands were starting to shake as I tugged at her for a minute without avail. Clearly she was stuck halfway through the hole, with neither going back in nor struggling out being her escape route.

The truck slid a metre down the slope. The birds all took flight in fright, and we screamed, thinking the branch snapped. Turns out that the hind wheels were still on the ground, though they were sliding off the slope.

Miley's next words struck my heart like a bell being hit by a hammer.

"Jackson, leave me."

I stared in shock at my sister, whom all this time had been competing against me for survival.

"Miles?"

Her grey eyes peered right into mine, and every word was heavy. But she meant ever word.

"Just leave me, Jackson. It's over. I can't get out. But you can. Go before it's too late."

"No! I am not leaving without you!"

The truck slid further down, but Miley hardly screamed.

"Go! At least one of us will make it through this! If you stay here, we'll both die!"

"I AM NEVER LEAVING MY LITTLE SISTER BEHIND TO DIE!"

All my love for Miley burst through, and for the first time I truly appreciated her generosity. Sincerely, I asked her, "What prompted such an act of generosity?"

Miley lowered her gaze slowly and spoke with earnest, "You've been trying to help me all this time, and...all this time I've been trying to get out without sparing a thought for you..."

Nonsense! I refused to believe it. Not now!

"And, now, you risk your life for mine. I can't repay that debt enough. I am not worthy. You should just go."

I knelt there, rooted to the spot, staring at my sister. The first tears formed around the corners of my eyes.

Miley also began to cry as she launched into a confession.

"Jackson, I'm so sorry for being such a horrible sister, and I'm sorry for all the horrible things I said about you just now. You are just as important a person as I am, and I had no right to judge you just by the way you live your life."

The truck was a foot away from tumbling into the dark abyss below.

"I'm sorry about fighting with you all this time...I'm sorry for being such a horrible sister...I'm sorry for all those shenanigans I pulled on you..."

I had to cling on to Miley no matter what the price, even if it was my life.

"NO! You shouldn't take all the blame! I'm supposed to be sorry for starting the fights in the first place!" My tears flowed freely down my cheeks like rivers. Miley released her grip on my arms. I only held on tighter.

"I love you, Jackson. I'm sorry for being horrible as a sister, and I never knew I'd say it like that. You're the best brother ever born into the world. I love you." Miley began weeping as she slowly let go of her life. I could feel her shaking uncontrollably under my arms.

It was time for me to say it now. It was now or never.

"I love you too Miley. Forgive me for being such a bad brother at times. Forgive me for fighting with you. You are the sister everyone dreams about. I love you."

Miley smiled weakly in between her tears. The truck gave a fatal tip, and with all her strength, she shoved me off the truck. I landed on the ground, hard.

"GO!"

"MILEY, NO!"

I couldn't get there in time. The truck was inches from falling off. Miley gave me one last word.

"Tell Dad I love them too. Tell Lilly and Oliver I love them. Tell them I'm sorry for what evil I might have caused them in the past."

"DON'T GO! MILEY!"

"I'll watch y'all from Heaven with Mom..."

The branch snapped at last. The truck made a final dive into the rocks below. With a terrified scream, Miley went down with the machine. I ran over to the edge of the cliff in time to watch the truck disappear. The truck's final journey marked my sister's last breaths, and when an almighty crash from the rocks below was heard, I knew the final journey was over. Miley had met her demise, and was now making her way to heaven.

"Miley..."

Lilly's POV:

A sudden pain in the gut bowled me over.

"Are you sure you're not hungry?" Oliver asked from the floor, half-conscious.

"No! Something happened..."

What was that all about? A wild panic seized control of me even though I could not sense what it was. It sounded like...dying breaths...last pleas...final cry of terror...

I snatched the doorknob and flew down the stairs...

Robbie Ray's POV:

Sweet niblets! What is happening to me? I keep getting a feeling that someone is trying to contact me! It sounds an awful like Miley, too. What are those? Hallucinations?

"_I love you Daddy. Remember that..."_

But that unsettling feeling in my stomach...what the heck is going on?

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I'll tell you what's going on tomorrow, Robbie. After a hard six hours, I could finally use a rest. Expect a second chapter to come your way definitely before two days are up. In the meantime, could someone please tell me what do they think of this chapter? Did it suck? Was it too short? Please kindly report any errors I made as well so that I may correct them.

I hope everyone enjoys this first chapter! Please tell me which is your favourite part if you please, and even if you don't review, thanks for reading anyway! I am really hyped about this!

I particularly liked the ending part. IMO it was very touching, even for the writer.

I did try to use third-person view to write this chapter, but somehow third-person view could not bring out the insights and inner feelings of the said character as well as first-person view.

Terrorking Tragedian


	2. The Faint Heartbeat

I received an AWESOME response from the audience yesterday. Thank you all so much for all those reviews, and whosoever who did not review, thanks for reading anyway. This may not be my proudest work, but it sure is my most successful. I would have jumped up and happy-danced if I were a girl. To avoid disappointing everyone (including myself), I hastened to complete chapter two, all mapped out in my head, basically depicting what happened after the first chapter. In I go! To chapter two!

This chapter is more essentially told from Robbie Ray's point of view. I discovered the fun about writing in first-person narrative is that it enables me (and essentially, the reader), to experience the scene through the character's eyes.

Disclaimer: I don't own Hannah Montana.

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Call the cows home, Robbie Ray. You're losing it.

I don't get it! I'm sure nothing happened, but somehow I feel this apprehension, like as if someone just died and I'm feeling it like a psychic sense. I found myself pacing around, a dead weight growing in my stomach. What the heck is going on? Am I sure it wasn't those hot Ee-doggies gone bad? Or is there something going on that I don't know about?

Where the heck IS Jackson?

"Mr Stewart! Mr Stewart!"

I whirled around with a jump, and stared in shock as Lilly descended down the stairs.

Lilly?! Why is she here? When did she come in?

"H-h-how did you..."

I struggled to talk, but so far I only managed to stutter a few unjoined words, my brain still numb with shock.

Apparently, Lilly did not notice my state of silence. She started yelling in a high panicky almost desperate voice.

"Mr Stewart! Look, I know this sounds weird but I think something horrible just happened to Miley and Jackson!"

I was mystified beyond the limits.

"What the heck are you talking about? Miley and Jackson are upstairs! How did..."

"Look, Mr Stewart, I'll explain later. Right now you have to find Miley and Jackson! They're not upstairs, okay?"

Oliver lumbered in the living room, looking like he was about to faint any moment, his feet each with weights tying them down.

Lilly and Oliver are here? This is crazy! Feeling a need for explanation, I snapped at them drily, "Explain."

Lilly and Oliver launched into full confession (with Lilly doing the most talking), recounting how they were hired by Jackson to pose as him and Miley so that they may sneak off to their respective activities. Apparently, Lilly found Miley impossible to imitate, not knowing our native accent nor having her slightly lower-pitched voice. Oliver practically starved to death in there while hiding from me.

If I weren't feeling this edgy, I would have burst into fits of laughter. Instead, I just gave Lilly a hard stare.

"I really don't know what to say."

Lilly looked down for a second before jumping back up again, saying, "I'm sorry, Mr Stewart, I really am! But just now I had a bad ache in the gut and now I think something terrible happened to Miley and Jackson; I heard their voices! They were calling for help! I don't know...I mean...I FEEL SO LOST!"

Her eyes were popping, her gestures wild, and every word from her mouth was punctuated with desperation. She placed heavy emphasis on the last four words to describe her anxiety.

She's not trying to tell me...what the...you mean she felt it too? Or was her bad gut ache caused by hunger?

"You felt it too?"

My voice became significantly softer, almost pleading and sympathetic tone inhibiting it. Lilly gave me a weird look and asked, "Weren't you gonna start yelling or something?"

"Can I PLEASE EAT SOMETHING?!"

"Over there, at the stove. Help yourself." I pointed at the pot of hot Ee-doggies sitting on the stove and vaguely saw Oliver charge forth like a human Speedy Gonzales. My mind was preoccupied by something...did Lilly feel that odd apprehension too? Perhaps something did happen to Miley and Jackson?

"Er...Mr Stewart?" Lilly's voice seemed distant.

Unconsciously, my hand reached for the phone by the couch. If Lilly and I both felt it, it couldn't have been a coincidence, could it? I took it that Oliver must have had his share of hallucinations too, or whatever they were called. If they both ran into trouble, it's probable that they were together at the time.

"I'm gonna give a call to that rascal Jackson." My fingers automatically began dialing Jackson's number.

I stopped when the phone started ringing.

I stared it for a while. Lilly jumped a mile into the air and Oliver turned around to watch, a large piece of the hot Ee-doggies in his ravenous maw. Pulling myself together, I pressed the "receive call" button, hoping it would be either Miley or Jackson.

"Hello?"

It was Jackson.

"D-d-d-dad, pl-please come q-quickly! I-I-I-I-I got us into trouble, and we're kinda l-lost in the fog." His voice was wavering and weak; he sounded like he was both in shock and crying at the same time.

"What kind of trouble?" My ears pricked up high the moment I heard the word "trouble".

"Well...we w-were driving, and we got lost and...we had an accident..." His voice trailed away hopelessly.

Accident?! Sweet niblets, what happened?!

"What do you mean by "accident", Jackson Rod Stewart?!" I growled into the phone. I could almost picture him backing away from the phone in fear upon hearing the penetrating fierceness in my voice. "How are the two of you? Where is Miley?"

"She...she...Miley...she..." Jackson was breathless.

"WHAT HAPPENED!!?? YOU DON'T SAY! YOU MEAN SOMETHING HAPPENED TO YOU TWO??!!" My voice box nearly tore itself asunder. Lilly gasped and covered her mouth with her hands. Oliver drop his food onto the marbled floor tiles.

"DANG'NAMMIT! I THOUGHT I FELT SOMETHING WEIRD TONIGHT! WHAT IN THE NAME OF UNCLE EARL'S FLUFFY SLIPPERS HAPPENED?!"

Jackson reached breaking point.

"LOOK, MAN! JUST COME AND FIND US! I DON'T KNOW WHERE WE ARE! HURRY!"

That only served to make me more agitated. But I had a feeling that this was not the time to be hollering into a phone reprimanding anyone. Trying to stabilise my voice, I breathed into the mouthpiece, "Did you get the cops?"

"YES DAD! JUST ASK THEM FOR JACKSON ROD STEWART AND THEY'LL TAKE YOU THERE! HURRY!" Jackson's coarse voice rang through the room from the ear piece.

"I'll be right on it!" I yelled into the phone one last time and slammed it back into its holder. Now only one thing stayed in my mind as I marched towards the door; get to police station and ask for Jackson. All I need now are the car keys, house keys and a whole lot of nerve.

"Sweet niblets! C'mon, kids! We're going to the police station!"

Lilly and Oliver hastened to obey.

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Lilly's POV:

What's going on?! Accident? This sounds worse than I thought! So those cries for help WERE from them! They were injured! Why did I ever let Miley talk me into her scheme? This should not have happened!

Wait! What about that dying voice I heard just now? And that pain in the gut that bowled me over? Did Miley die? I shudder thinking about it.

"...please God, let Miley be safe..."

The ride to the police station felt like an eternity. All the while I sat silent, praying hard, hoping against hope that Miley might still be alive.

Oliver's voice sounded distant, echoing like ripples through my mind.

"Lilly, are you crying?"

"Huh?" I just noticed the small stream of tears descending neatly from my eyes down my cheeks. Hastily, I wiped them off with my sleeve before Mr Stewart noticed. Hardly likely that he would though. He kept his eyes on the road the whole time, and in them I could see a fire I have never witnessed before in my life. Could he have thought the same thing?

"I hope Miley's still alive or something, if something bad really happened." He said morosely, all at once looking very emaciated and tired.

The next moment was a blur. We were at the police station, then the next moment we were following the police cars to Jackson's location. In no time at all I found myself alighting to face the scene.

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Robbie Ray's POV:

"Mr Stewart, I believe this is your son?"

I reeled back in shock for a moment. Did that look like Jackson? Is that shaking crying stuttering beady-eyed staring-straight young man sitting on the ground over there my son? I did not expect him to look like this!

"Jackson!" The kids and I yelled in unison. Lilly and Oliver probably snapped out of their own reveries moments ago.

Jackson jumped a foot into the air before greeting us, his whole body shaking like a wind chime.

"...Dad..."

The policemen told me they were unable to get a word out of him all the while after he called them in. They were on the verge of giving up, in fact.

"If you ask me, I think this boy looks a tad deranged."

With a wave of my hand I silenced the officer, my natural intimidating instinct shining through. All the cops in the vicinity fell silent. Resolutely, I marched over to Jackson, steeling myself up for come-what-may. In a firm but not unfriendly voice, I asked him, "Where's Miley?"

Lilly and Oliver waited for his answer in bated breath. I myself kept my eyes staring right into Jackson's blank-looking ones. Jackson made no attempt to talk, but instead pointed to the dark shadows under the cliff.

Lilly screamed in horror and brought her hands to her mouth in a snap. Oliver blanched tenfold, nearly collapsing.

My stomach felt like it fell off the cliff too. All the hope I had held on to all this time drained away. There was no escaping the fact that Miley could not possibly be alive anymore. It has probably been over an hour since the "accident".

Trying desperately to stabilise my breathing, I made a motion for the cops in the area to move out.

"Search down there, salvage what you can."

Jackson was utterly shocked about my response.

"Dad! You're taking it so lightly? I thought you were gonna hit me, or yell at me, or something. Please! Just scold me! At least that's better than silence!"

Jackson did look like he was ready for a lashing from me. Truth be told, I would have killed him on the spot, apoplectic with rage while berating him for being such a horrible driver to have driven them off a cliff. But now, all I wanted to do was to go to the bottom of the cliff and find Miley, however she may look like.

I motioned Jackson and the others to get in the car. Jackson told me everything on our way downhill hesitantly, like speaking to a psychiatrist. In my dazed state, however, I only managed to catch bits of his explanation.

"We were suspended by only a branch, and every now and then we would tip...she got stuck...she pushed me off..."

Lilly broke down completely into her hands and Oliver, no matter how steadfast he tried to be, couldn't help fidgeting and tearing up a little.

All the while I whispered to myself as much as to the Lord, "Let Miley be alive. Please."

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(This part was actually the part I planned out first so I'm going to write it in **Third-Person Omniscient, **which means third person but from one character's eyes, savvy?):

The wreckage was a miserable pile of scrap metal. From where the cops stood it just looked like a miniature plane crash site. Robbie Ray and the kids knew that there was no hope of Miley being alive by the time they arrived at the scene.

Policemen were already there, calling the ambulance to sort out the chaos. Some men were trying to pry into the metal looking for the body before help came.

One of the officers exclaimed in apparent surprise, "I found her! She's still alive! It's...blimey! It's Hannah Montana!"

All the officers yelped in shock at once. There was a huge ripple of denial moving through the men.

Robbie's heart stopped pumping for five seconds. _Miley's alive?_

"Hannah Montana? You're kidding!"

"Be serious man! Are you sure?"

"It is her! It's Hannah Montana!"

"Coming through!"

Robbie Ray strode right through the crowd of bickering officers. With sheer brutal force and relentless determination, ripped the metal away from the body trapped within. Within seconds, Robbie drew out the bloodied figure from the wreck. Lilly and Oliver collapsed into each other's arms upon laying eyes on the figure in my hands, and Jackson knelt down, beginning to cry.

Gingerly, Robbie Ray laid the figure's legs on the ground, her torso in his lap. She looked a complete mess. Her torso was bloody, her abdomen and legs dangling helplessly. Her arms appeared to be unhurt apart from some scratches, and her Hannah wig was askew. That was how Miley looked like.

And yet, for such a bloody mess, she looked oddly peaceful, almost as if she was on the verge of falling asleep. Apart from horrendous wounds on her body, she bore no other signs of injury. Robbie bent low to hear her breath while feeling her wrist.

There it was! A faint heartbeat of life! The soft breathing indicates survival, however weak it may be. There was no mistake; Miley was still alive.

Instantly, Robbie's heart warmed up, and hope renewed itself in all of their hearts as Lilly, Oliver and Jackson all knelt down on all sides of the figure.

"Mile...Mile..." Robbie tried to shake her awake, holding on tight to her right hand, the way he did to her many mornings.

To everybody's amazement, Miley half-opened her beautiful grey eyes. Robbie's gaze met hers, and they engaged in the deepest father-daughter moment to be recorded in history.

Robbie's voice was coarse with relief and at the same time, sorrow.

"Miley...what in the name of sweet-smelling bilgerats happened to you?"

Miley's reply was soft and breathless, as if every word required a dangerous amount of labor.

"I'm sorry, Daddy. Jackson tried to save me, but it was hopeless. I pushed him off the truck so that one of us would stay alive. I'm sorry for sneaking off like this; otherwise this would have never happened."

"Such an act of sacrifice is not worthy for a person like me!" Jackson wept with bitter earnest. "Why, Miley? Why did you let go? Why did you abandon hope?"

"I made that choice myself; I have no regrets."

"But I do!" Jackson was angry at her. "You shouldn't have let go! We were so close to getting out of there!"

Robbie's first tears descended. After carefully removing the Hannah wig, he handed it to a sobbing Lilly and began stroking her natural brown hair.

"Oh sweet pea..."

Miley twitched suddenly, as if in great pain. Robbie hastened to comfort her with his soft crooning voice.

"Save your breath now, you'll need it on the way to hospital."

Miley squeezed his hand harder, however, and began to whisper her truly last words.

"I told Jackson everything I should have just now. I'm sorry for all the trouble I caused, all my misdeeds and sins, and I hope you forgive them. Jackson, I'm sorry for being such a horrible sister to you..."

Despite her weakening state, Miley began to sob in my arms, shifting her gaze to Jackson.

"Jackson, I'm so sorry about fighting you all this time..."

Jackson practically yelled at her, "Stop saying that! It's not entirely your fault! I'm to blame for being such a horrible brother too! Didn't you hear anything just now?"

Miley ignored that last statement. Turning her eyes on Robbie, she began to give him her parting words.

"Dad, I'm sorry for causing whatever trouble to you in my life. You are the greatest Dad anyone can dream about. The only reason I struggled to stay awake all this time was to thank you for all you've done for me..."

Miley was slipping away. Hastily, Robbie gathered her closer into his arms. Her head, no longer supported by the neck muscles that it was joined to, rested on his chest. Her breathing began to short out...

"Miley! Miley, stay with us! No!"

Lilly reached out for Miley's left hand and shook her desperately. At this, Miley opened her eyes again. Glistening tears resumed their endless flow down her bloodied cheeks.

"Miley, I'm so sorry! If only I refused to help you, this would never happen!" Lilly's voice was choked with tears of sympathy.

Oliver held on to Miley's left hand as well, saying tearfully, "Please don't leave us. We're your best friends."

There was not a dry eye at the scene. Everyone began to weep with bitter earnest, and Robbie Ray, cradling Miley's broken body, kissed her on the forehead. Miley smiled between her tears and spoke in a voice barely a whisper.

"Lilly, Oliver. You've been such great friends. Whenever I needed your support, you were there to help me. Even though we fought many times, you've never abandoned me. You were like my siblings. We've been through all kinds of rain and storm together. It seemed like our friendship could last forever. And yet, here we are. Now we have to part."

"MILEY!" All the others screamed in unison. "Don't say things like that!" Oliver added, unable to hold his tears any longer.

Barely breathing now, Miley whispered, "No. I can feel my energy draining away. I know I won't stay awake much longer. I just want to say this one last time. Lilly, Oliver, thank you. For being the best of true friends. I love you."

Lilly and Oliver nodded wordlessly, still holding Miley's cold dying hand.

"Daddy, I want to thank you for bringing me into the world. Your efforts made my short life worth living. I appreciate all that you've done for me. Thank you for loving me all this time. I love you too." She gasped into his chest, yet everyone heard every word loud and clear. Robbie began sobbing into her hair, his emotions having finally broken the dam.

"Me too, bud. I love you too. Please, don't leave us hanging like this." He pleaded her to stay with them.

But Miley knew her time was running out. She had only a few more breaths left before death claimed her as his own. She whispered her last words to Jackson.

"Jackson, I repeat everything I said to you just now. I know I did the right thing by pushing you off the truck. No brother would risk his life for mine the way you did. Once again, forgive me for being such a selfish annoying sister..."

Jackson replied in kind, "You'll forgive me for ruining your life so many times, too?"

Miley smiled and said, "Yes. I love you Jackson. I love you Daddy, Lilly, Oliver."

Then she fell unconscious. Lilly became frantic.

"No! NO! MILEY! COME BACK TO US!"

Jackson turned away in agony. Robbie Ray, however, did not take it that stoically.

"Bud! Bud! COME BACK! MILEY NO! BUD! STAY AWAKE!"

Final whispers were heard from Miley's unmoving mouth.

"Coming momma...I'm coming..."

"MILEY, DON'T DIE!"

The music of death reached its crescendo. Her final breath was exhausted; her strength left her completely. As her hand fell limp, her head rolled forwards slightly, still rested on Robbie's chest. Her eyes closed again, this time for good. With a final quiet sigh, Miley Stewart passed on. Heaven mourned the death of such an innocent soul with a light shower, distant sounds of thunder rolling.

"MILEY! DON'T GO! YOU PROMISED WE WOULD BE BEST FRIENDS FOREVER!" Lilly screamed in final desperation. But her attempts to revive Miley were futile.

"She's gone, Lilly." Oliver tried to pull the reins on Lilly before she hurt herself, in spite of himself at the moment.

Lilly, unable to control her pain, wailed in grief and tackled Oliver around the midriff, dropping the Hannah wig onto the cold ground. Oliver stroked her hair gently, and in turn began to cry into her hair. Robbie and Jackson took the passing on of their beloved family member in quiet acceptance.

"She saved my life, Dad."

Robbie looked away from the empty shell that was his daughter. The Policemen behind them saluted, each of them looking very morose.

The wail of the ambulance drew close. In no time paramedics appeared and pried the body from Robbie Ray's reluctant hands. After running some tests, a white cloth was placed over Miley, covering her entirely. Robbie knew this would be the last time he would ever see his daughter in the flesh.

"You always had the best of both worlds, Miley." He whispered to the heavens, hoping Miley would hear.

_'I know, Dad. I got nerve too."_

The ambulance sped off...

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I tried to keep Miley alive long enough for the reader to think she might still have a fighting chance, only to kill her again in the end. This chapter was rather disappointing for my standards, but if anybody liked it they could always review and tell me which part they like about it. To be honest I liked the first chapter WAY more than this one. Nevertheless, this was what came into my head, so, yeah, thanks for reading.

If enough people told me they hated the way this chapter ended, I'll rewrite the ending.

The next chapter will basically be mourning and guilt. It seems hard for any of the characters to forget it in a hurry. I might even enjoy writing this; I certainly loved the first chapter. I may also mention something about Hannah. And remember our friend from Romania?

Hold on for another two days. Thank you.

Terrorking Tragedian


	3. Aftermath

I received a huge response for this story; more than any other. Words cannot express my gratitude and utmost joy when I looked at my mailbox a few days ago. (33 new email alerts from Wow.) I would hence like to say a big thanks to all who read this story and cried over it. (DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH IT MEANS TO ME?)

Most unfortunately, this story is coming to a close, and in two or three chapters it will reach its end. I only hope I can do it justice by ending in a completely non-cliche and totally breathtaking way.

Now, this chapter will basically be mourning and such, so if you enjoy blow-to-blow action exclusively, then I am going to say that you are not going to enjoy this very much. I must say myself, due to this being a bridge to the next chapter and is basically just a part of the story that contains all the crucial connections, it might be a tad disappointing and boring. I know I'm bored writing this; why do you think I spent four days on it? But if you like sad drama scenes and all that, well, read on! I suppose readers will never look at the episode "You Gotta Not Fight For Your Right To Party" the same way ever again.

**Let me make this clear one more time. Please do not be too disappointed about this chapter. It's just a bridge. Truth is: I totally ran out of juice here. Just bear with me until I manage to write the next chapter.**

Disclaimer: If only I owned Hannah Montana, this would be made into an episode or something.

Edit: **ATTENTION TO ALL READERS! IMPORTANT MESSAGE AT THE END OF THE PAGE AFTER THE CHAPTER FINISHES. PLEASE READ ON AT THE END.**

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The hospital was always a harrowing place. People go there when they get hurt, get ill, get shots, or die. And a hospital has a collection of such people. Visitors almost never look too happy; in fact visitors at hospitals were known for their depressed states. Probably because they come here to suffer a form of pain, or to see someone who has pain inflicted upon them.

Even the dead come here. The bodies of the deceased must be carted off first to the hospital before the person is declared clinically dead. Even when the signs of death are blithely obvious. All the while the body would be hidden from its loved ones, under the white blanket.

It was for this reason; it was to hear the examiners say, "She's dead,", that Lilly, Oliver, Jackson and Robbie Ray were there. Waiting outside any room while the doctors behind the door are at work is one of the most painful experiences anyone waiting must endure. But things are not quite the same when the examined in question is already dead. Post-mortem examination, said the doctor.

For never will she come back. Never will anyone hear her sing, watch her dance, join her laughter. No one will ever tease and humiliate her again. No more will Hannah Montana jump up on stage, yelling to hordes of screaming fans, "Thank you! I love you all!" Never will things be the same again.

Miley was gone forever. There was no denying it.

Lilly was inconsolable. Waves upon waves of miserable weeping pored through her as she tried to stifle her crying with her hands. She cried so hard eventually her voice gave out. Sitting on the couch beside her was Oliver, staring hard on the floor before him, unblinking, unmoving and silent, as if in denial.

Jackson was in a state of shock, ashen-faced and dry-eyed. He neither cried nor moved, like Oliver, except he was standing, staring straight out of the window. Deep in his reverie, he failed to notice anything around him at all, not even when a small gaggle of nurses wheeled another bloodied body past him, talking at an unmeasurable speed.

"Look, boy, will you just move?!"

The only person not present at the scene was Robbie Ray. He was leaning against the wall along a corridor next to the examination room, bathed in shadow and hidden from their sight. He stared at the wall across the corridor as he recalled the painfully similar memories...

"_Mr. Stewart, your wife wants to depart with her last words."_

"_Thanks, Doc. Miley, Jackson, come on."_

_The doctor led us party of three into the room. It was well-lit, its spotless walls radiating white, threatening to blind their eyes. In the middle of the room laid a middle-aged woman, partially covered with a white bed sheet. Her body was grotesquely mutilated; every bone in her arms were broken, and her legs torn to shreds. Her face resembled a mass of burnt black and red. Despite her wrecked state, however, she turned and faced them._

"_Oh mom..."_

_Miley staggered towards her dying mother tearfully, stopping at the edge of the bed. She was the first to get there. Her mother gave her a pained smile._

"_Oh, baby girl. What happened to you?"_

_Even her voice sounded broken. Every word caused terrible pain in the throat._

_Miley choked through her tears, "Why did this happen?"_

_Jackson also came up before the bed, tears glistening in his eyes._

"_Mom, please don't go. We need you."_

_Mother gave a soft reply, "Shh, shh. Don't cry. It's not everyday you see a tractor blow up."_

_Miley and Jackson stayed by their mother's side for a whole ten minutes, during which, somehow sustained by positive energy, Mom did not succumb to the inevitable darkness._

_I stood behind them the whole time, trying my best to be steadfast and strong for all of us. Instantly, however, I failed when she called me._

"_Robbie..."_

_I crawled to the bed, my feet each weighing a ton._

"_Hold my hand, dear. Miley, Jackson, hold my hand."_

_She stuck out a hand, blackened and dead looking. We grasped the hand gently as directed. Mom flinched and gasped a little, but did not withdraw her hand._

"_I want you three to live a happy life without grieving over me forever. Remember that I will always be spiritually at your side. All you have to do is think about me." Her voice was barely a rasp._

_I could not help but let the tears flow. I began, "Honey..."_

_But she cut me across with a squeeze from her withered hand, saying, "Listen to what I have to say before we part."_

_Knowing her judgment was due soon, she addressed to Miley first._

"_Sweet pea, I know you can do it. You always knew how to do anything as long as you wanted to do it. Remember the time when you told Mamaw and I you wanted to be a pop star? If you know that's what you want, then go ahead and do it. I'll watch from Heaven, and I'm sure you will do good."_

_Miley's lip trembled, and before long she burst into a fit of silent tears._

"_Momma..."_

_Mom moved on to Jackson._

"_Jackson, I want you to know that even though you might not have huge aspirations, you are still a great kid, and my first-born son. I am proud of you just because you are my son, and will always be proud of you as I watch you from above. Don't forget about me."_

_Jackson shook his head violently, biting his tongue in an effort to avoid bursting into tears himself._

_Finally, with tremendous effort, she turned her gaze to me, and under the burnt flesh and ruined complexion I saw an earnest face._

"_Honey, Robbie, you will be in charge of the kids now. I want you to raise them like we planned, and live on happily without me. Just don't forget me. Will you promise me that, dear?" _

_Choking behind my own hot tears, I knelt down and placed my mouth next to her ear, whispering passionately, "Yes, love."_

_That simple answer proved satisfactory. Mom smiled and bade us farewell for the last time._

"_I'll always be with you. Miley, Jackson, Robbie, I love you. And remember, if you want me, all you have to do is think about me."_

_With that, a last sigh escaped her lips, and her head rolled sideways, collapsing into the pillow. Mom had passed away._

_A spear was driven through my heart. I began to sob miserably, not giving a hoot about how I looked like. (Crying was not a man's thing.) Miley threw herself into my arms and broke down into noisy tears, Jackson following suit shortly after. As we embraced in a comforting family hug but with one member short, the doctors at hand cover the corpse with a white cloth, shielding her from our view. That was to be the last time I saw her in the flesh._

"Oh Darlin', you were gone so suddenly. Now Miley is too. What has happened to our family?"

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Lilly felt only guilt upon guilt. She repetitively gasped through her tears every now and then, "It's all our fault...I shouldn't have done it...Now she's gone..."

Oliver was in denial. Unable to understand fully what had just happened, all he could do was stare blankly in front of him and try to digest the situation. He too occasionally mumbled to himself the same words, "It didn't happen, did it? This is all a dream?"

Unable to stand the silence any longer, Lilly burst out, "It's my fault! It's all my fault! I shouldn't have listened to her! Otherwise this would have happened!"

Oliver jerked out of his reverie. Deciding to believe that the tragedy had happened after all, he putting one hand on Lilly's hand and tried to calm her down.

"Lilly, no! It's both our fault! Don't take all the blame."

"NO NO NO! I SHOULDN'T HAVE LISTENED TO HER!" Lilly screamed in defiance. Jackson winced and looked away, a sudden pang of guilt hitting him like a hammer in the stomach.

"Oliver, you had no part to play in this. I just pulled you into the whole thing. I am to blame for the tragedy." Lilly went on, staring into her hands. "If only I just told her that her Dad was looking out for them, this would never have happened..."

Her voice trailed away and she erupted in a wave of tears. Oliver embraced her shaking body in a warm brotherly hug, whispering into her ear as she cried bitterly into his shoulder, "Don't blame yourself, Lilly...Don't blame yourself..."

Jackson suddenly felt compelled to join into the conversation. He whirled around and muttered solemnly, "He's right, Lilly. It's entirely my fault. I drove us off the cliff. I can never forgive myself for that."

Oliver looked up at Jackson and thought deeply for a moment. Indeed, it would seem that Jackson will be the one who will take the full brunt of the blame and guilt. It was he would sat behind the steering wheel, after all. And it had been his doing that drove them off the cliff. All the evidence pointed at Jackson for being the killer.

It sounded harsh, but Jackson was thinking along the same lines. He looked absolutely in pain, deep in thought and wallowing in regret and self-pity.

"I don't care what Miley says; it's all my fault and if only I weren't so careless and reckless, she wouldn't have ended up like this." Jackson went on, determined to take full responsibility.

"It's not your fault."

A baritone voice rang through the corridor, effectively silencing the quarreling kids. Robbie Ray had reappeared, looking haggard and most woebegone.

Truth be told, everyone felt guilt. Robbie felt the worst at the moment. He looked directly at Jackson with reddened eyes.

"It's my fault all this happened. I should never have grounded you. I was being too harsh. You two were just fighting like any brother and sister. I was being unfair." Every syllable was filled with deep regret.

"Dad, no. You were annoyed because we've been fighting. Don't blame yourself - " Jackson began before Robbie cut him off.

"Who are YOU trying to blame, Jackson Rod Stewart?" Robbie snapped, annoyed at Jackson for being such a hypocrite. Jackson fell silent at once.

There was an tense silence for the next ten minutes, occasionally broken by Lilly's incessant sobs.

Finally the doctor emerged from the room, bearing the news that Miley was officially deceased. Lilly at once burst into a fresh wave of tears upon hearing her best friend's name. Oliver and Jackson stood and watched the doctor somberly as he explained the procedures following the death of a person.

"We will hand her to the undertaker right away. He will prepare the necessary before the funeral. When shall we schedule the funeral?" He asked, not tentatively.

Robbie replied calmly, "As soon as the undertaker finishes his job. I'll hold the funeral back home in Tennessee, where she will be buried in our land." He had thought it over beforehand.

"Burial? I see. Usually people want cremation." The doctor replied casually.

Robbie sighed heavily. "I guess we better start calling people."

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The following week was a hectic blitz. The press were alerted about the horrible accident somewhere in the hills of the Malibu outskirts. For an entire three days they have been pressing the remaining members of the Stewart family in Malibu and those who were involved for information. Meanwhile the only source of support for "TERRIBLE ACCIDENT IN MALIBU OUTSKIRTS" were the police, who seemed to have done a lot of research without the witnesses' help. In the end, however, after all the pressure, the witnesses finally gave in, and asked the press to deliberately stage an interview for this.

"Yes, I want an interview where you can start shooting your mouths off at us. Who knows? We might even answer you! Now quit badgering us!" Robbie Ray yelled into the phone after the press called for the umpteenth time.

The press refused to entertain request and began pursuit of the witnesses one by one. Eventually, Lilly gave in, telling the reporters her side of the story in detail. Hours later Oliver surrendered as well. Meanwhile, the press also caught up with a number of policemen who were witnesses of the scene. Now the only people who seemed to have kept their silence were the Stewarts.

Unfortunately, the police had disclosed even more sensational information. They claimed that when Robbie first fished out the body from the wreckage, it looked like Hannah Montana. Robbie had removed the blonde hair from her head during their last conversation, suggesting it to be a wig. Rumours abounded that Hannah Montana was killed in the crash, but the hospital gave no evidence that Hannah was involved in the crash at all. The person killed went by the name of Miley Stewart.

Eventually, though, people will start to notice the disappearance of Hannah Montana, and that was the reason why Robbie had finally decided to confess to the reporters. He confessed everything: Hannah was a stage name for Miley, and the blonde hair was just a wig. The reason for hiding it from the world was so that Miley could live two lives; a normal life and a super-star life.

"There! So now you know everything! Hannah IS dead, and there's nothing you can do about it! Now, for the sake of sweet niblets, leave us alone!"

The press did not allow the Stewarts to mourn in peace, however. The story of Hannah Montana's death shocked not only the United States, it shocked the world. Fans cried in outrage, suggesting a sort of foul play, and that all this was a fraud or joke. Speculations and rumours ran amok, for there were hardly any reliable witnesses to report Hannah Montana's death except for the few policemen and close friends of Miley Stewart. But there was no denying it, for when Robbie showed the press all the proof they needed to actually confirm that all this was not a lie (namely, Hannah's Closet), all of the world saw the naked truth. Hannah Montana was, after all, just an alias for a girl who wanted to live "the best of both worlds". And now that she is dead, so goes all the fame and glory of Hannah Montana.

Naturally, the world mourned the death of Hannah Montana while at the same time, tried to digest the sudden shocking news of Hannah being an alias and disguise. Some people highly suspected "fraudulent activity", and did not hesitate to deeply investigate into the matter before they believed it. Eventually, fans even began to accuse Jackson of murder, and lawsuits cost everyone a lot of time and money. Quite many times, Jackson would have been convicted for murder; after all, there were no other witnesses in the truck at the time. The truck that crashed, taking Hannah/Miley with it. Jackson only managed to bail himself out of this by insisting on the details that only the personally involved would know. But then again, the enraged fans hardly believed him.

"I'M HER BROTHER, YOUR HONOR! I AM JACKSON STEWART, BROTHER OF MILEY STEWART! DO YOU SERIOUSLY THINK I WOULD INTENTIONALLY MURDER HER?!"

It was a big mouthful for the fans to swallow: their pop princess was dead. The result of all this was endless controversy.

The news spread like wildfire. And such big news would not have missed any part of the civilized world, including Romania, buried somewhere in the middle of Europe.

There in Romania, was a famous teen star named Jake Ryan.

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Jake's POV:

News reached me in Romania as well.

First, I glimpsed an article in the international news section in the national newspaper. It read, "Speculations: Hannah Montana killed in vehicle accident?"

Instantly the title blew me away. Straining my eyes to read the following words, this is what made sense in my mind:

_Following a vehicle accident in the outskirts of Malibu, California, USA, from the recounts of witnesses (being policemen at the scene), a rumor has been spread that Hannah Montana has been killed in the accident. The witnesses claim that a group of people identified as family of the victim cradled the victim and began a final conversation. While the victim, later identified as Miley Stewart, 14, did sport a_ _blonde wig that resembled Hannah Montana's greatly, later one of the people (identified as Stewart's father, Robbie Ray Stewart) took off the wig and passed it to the girl in the group of four. Evidence from a quote by Officer Bill Grey:_

"_The family ran up to the ruins and pulled out the bloody girl from there. She looked an awful lot like Hannah Montana. And then they talked. It was a very touching last conversation that moved even us policemen to tears. Halfway through the conversation the man kind of took off the golden wig and passed it to the other girl. All the while, we could tell, the poor girl had been struggling to stay awake, and her friends were desperate to keep her awake for as long as she can. But the end she finally died in her father's arms, whispering something. We all saluted her as the ambulance arrived. It was drizzling at the time."_

_Miley Stewart and the group of four people were transported to the nearby Alexandria Hospital. Meanwhile the press are trying to uncover more._

My mind refused to make sense out of this, even though I knew perfectly well what all that meant. Miley's dead? That can't be. And why the hell was she wearing a wig?

I remembered the only emotion I experienced was confusion and ominousness. Miley couldn't have died, could she? But then, Robbie Ray Stewart...that's the name of Miley's dad! OH SNAP! THIS CAN'T BE HAPPENING!

I've been thinking about Miley everyday, every hour, every minute. Nothing I did put my mind off my sweetheart probably still waiting for me in Malibu. The phrase, "Distance makes the heart grow fonder" or something like that certainly was true for me. Imagine the shock I went through when I read that article!

I remembered bursting into cold sweat and freezing on the spot. At once my mind went numb with shock, and my face blanched so much it can be compared to a sheet of paper. The cast and crewmen bustling around stared at me, frightened at my appearance. There, in the chair, sits Jake Ryan, rigid with shock, and staring at the newspaper as if staring at a ghost.

I went back to my trailer, trembling from head to toe. So hard was the shock that it mysteriously drained all the energy from my body. I decided to turn in early. Maybe if I go to bed I'll wake up and realise this is all a dream.

No such luck. Three days later another related article appeared in the paper, this time the title being, "Confession of a teenage witness: What happened at the Malibu Outskirts."

_After three days of pressure, the reporters finally managed to obtain a confession from one of the people directly involved in the post-accident scene. Lilly Truscott, 14, claimed to be best friends with Miley Stewart, the casualty of the accident, deceased. Truscott provided the reporters with a personal recount of the actual happenings before the press and the ambulance got there. The reporters were welcomed into the Truscott residence by Truscott herself._

"_We were hiding in Miley's house the whole time according to Jackson's plan, posing as them so that Mr Stewart wouldn't find out. But then I began to hear desperate cries for help almost telepathically. I could tell that Miley and Jackson were in trouble. When I received a sudden sharp pain in the gut, I sort of knew that they were in big trouble. Then I ran down the stairs and told Mr Stewart about all this. I think he felt it too, for he knew what was I talking about._

_Then Jackson called. Mr Stewart and Jackson had a shouting match, and after telling Mr Stewart to find them by asking the police for their whereabouts, Jackson hung up. We drove to the police station and were led to the crash scene. Jackson looked so helpless. I remember Mr Stewart driving us to the bottom of the cliff to look for Miley. I didn't think she could possibly be alive, though. Jackson drove them off the cliff! _

_But, to our amazement, we found Miley alive, but just barely. She said sorry to us all, and apologised to her dad about disobeying him, she said sorry to Jackson for being a horrible sister, she said sorry to Oliver and I for whatever trouble she caused for us in the past. All I could remember doing at the time was cry. Finally, she said she loved us all, and after whispering to her mom in Heaven, she was gone."_

_At this point, Truscott was too overcome by emotion to continue. She declined to comment or reply when reporters asked her what was "Jackson's plan", and where were Jackson and Miley, the two Stewart children, going at the time. Having been provided satisfactory information, the reporters did not hesitate to leave the residence when Truscott's mother, Mrs Truscott, shooed them out, threatening to call the police if they did not leave immediately._

It broke me into pieces. For the first time in days, I cried. Luckily, I was in my trailer at the time, so nobody noticed. The mention of Lilly involved in all this PROVES the fact that Miley is gone. I never experienced this sort of pain before. It was a heartbreak; a sharp burning stake driven through my heart. For an entire night, I sat on the floor of the trailer, crying, and in stubborn denial.

Screaming to myself as if I were a lunatic, I could have sworn some people came to knock on my door, annoyed or concerned, I did not care. I remembered having a row with a part of myself.

"It's not true! She couldn't have died!"

"_Then why is Lilly in the newpapers? And Oliver? And Jackson? Robbie Ray? All these names can't be mere coincidences, can they?"_

"No! I refuse to believe it! Miley promised to wait for me!"

"_Promises are made to be broken. She's just a human, and humans are mortal. She's gone. Accept it. All your dreams about reuniting with her are for naught."_

"NO! I LOVED HER! HOW SHE CAN LEAVE ME LIKE THIS?!"

"_Because it was not her choice to die, it was Heaven's will. There is nothing we can do about it."_

"NOOOO! MILEY WHY?!"

"_Pull yourself together, man! You are Jake Ryan, strongest of the teen champions, and Zombie Slayer._ _She's just a girl. Get over it!"_

"HOW DO YOU EXPECT ME TO GET OVER IT? I'VE BEEN THINKING ABOUT HER DAY AND NIGHT! I LOVED HER!"

"_SHE'S JUST A GIRL, JAKE!"_

"SHE'S MY GIRL! SHE'S MY LOVE!"

"Jake! Who are you talking to in there?"

I found myself beating the floor with my fists. My hair was messed up, and my eyes were red and puffy. I looked a total mess. On top of everything, I was bloody exhausted, but kept awake by the pain I felt in my heart.

Someone knocked the door and bashed into the room, afraid I might have been attacked or something, judging by the way I had been roaring and howling just now.

"Good Lord, what happened to you?" It was my co-star, John. "I've been wondering where you've been when I heard you yelling and all, and blimey you don't look so good, do you, mate?" he added, his clearly distinguishable London accent suggesting his piqued curiosity.

I never found anyone more annoying than him at the moment. Hurling the quickest insult I could think of at the time at him, he turned to leave hastily.

"JOHN GET OUT OF HERE AND LEAVE ME ALONE!"

He ducked and missed the chair being thrown at him at fifty-miles per hour, and without a moment's hesitation, he darted out of the door, slamming it shut with a resounding bang.

The next day, yet another similar article appeared in the paper, this one saying, "Confessions of a friend: What happened at Malibu Outskirts." This time, it was Oliver who was interviewed, apparently having "surrendered to the pressure upon hearing his close friend Lilly Truscott talk to the press openly". The article started off with a "Oliver Oken, 14, was a member of group of four whom were directly related to the casualty of the vehicle accident in the Malibu Outskirts, California, USA. The accident spawned a rumor that Hannah Montana was the casualty..." and the rest is history.

Nothing Lilly and Oliver said anything about Hannah Montana, though the Officer Bill Grey did mention something about a "blonde wig". Why the hell would Miley, no, Hannah, be wearing a blonde wig? Is there a mystery around this?

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Apparently there is. Just two days after the article about Oliver, the papers reported an even more shocking news, this one can be seen on international cable television. And Romania misses nothing out. At seven pm, I turned on the television and flipped to the USA news channel.

It was actually a special news report. The interviewers were reporters, and the interviewed were none other than Robbie Ray Stewart and Jackson Stewart, who told the entire story before the big crash. Jackson told the reporters how they hatched a plan to get out of the house so that he may go to watch Panic! At the Disco and Miley off to Beyonce Knowles's party.

"Why were you trying to sneak out?"

"Why was Miley off to Beyonce's party? Isn't it a celebrity Hollywood party?"

"Why were you off to Panic! At the Disco?"

Jackson dealt the nerve-wracking barrage of questions very nervously. He cried out, "We were grounded! Dad forbade us to - "

"Why were you grounded?"

"Because we were fighting incessantly!"

"And why were you fighting?"

"BECAUSE WE'RE SIBLINGS! THAT'S WHY!"

"Excuse me, boy, get back to the part about Beyonce's party!"

In light of Miley's death, I suppose, Robbie revealed shocking information to the world.

"You want to know why she's headed for Beyonce's Hollywood party even though she's a nobody? Well, I'll tell you why she's going. 'Cause she's not a nobody! She's Hannah Montana!"

The studio audience, reporters, the whole wide world who were watching, gasped in shock, aghast.

Robbie went on to describe the details. He answered all the questions before they were asked. He told the entire story behind Hannah. Apparently, Hannah Montana was just a stage name, and the wig was a means of disguise. The songs "Best of Both Worlds", "The Other Side of Me" and some others reflected the philosophy as to why they were keeping the entire double-life thing a secret. Miley wanted to live a normal life as well as a pop-star life.

The reporters were in a state of shock.

"So, she's definitely Hannah?"

"Yes. And with her now gone, there will be no more Hannah Montana. We owe the fans out there an apology."

I stared at the TV screen, aghast. Recalling the times when I was with Hannah while on the set of Zombie High, I remembered confessing my feelings for Miley. Was I talking to the very person whom I loved without knowing it? Hannah was Miley in disguise?

How come I never knew? Miley led a double life, one of a regular person, the other a mega pop star. So she'd been off to the Hollywood party because she was a celebrity!

The show was not over yet. Jackson described the thrilling attempt to escape the situation before Miley met her gruesome death. I flinched when Jackson told everyone about how the truck was driven off a cliff, and they were suspended only by a branch. The entire audience cried when Miley spoke her should-have-been final words to Jackson before the truck tumbled into the abyss. Soon, we realised that the death of Miley was almost directly Jackson's fault.

Which must have been the reason to why there's all this controversy going on at the time. Jackson nearly landed himself in jail.

The Miley and Hannah story didn't stay in the international news section of the Romanian newspaper. It made it to the headlines. Emblazoned on the front page were the words, "HANNAH MONTANA'S SECRET REVEALED! SENSATIONAL STORY!"

I had been in no mood to shoot any movie at all during those dark days. No doubt everyone must have witnessed my brooding depressed state, for they began to sympathize with me the best they could, even though they did not know the whole personal story about me being in love with Miley.

Miley, why did you have to leave so suddenly? Don't you know how much I think about you in a day?

Luckily for me, the break was coming in a day's time. The director allowed the crew and cast one week of holiday before they resumed filming the movie. That means I had the freedom to fly back to the United States to attend Miley's funeral. In the interview, Robbie told them he was going to hold the funeral in Tennessee, where they came from. Miley was to be buried in Stewart-owned land two days after today. Because this interview was shown internationally, I worked out the time, and decided that Robbie would be holding the funeral tomorrow. I booked the air ticket to Nashville, Tennessee, and awaited for the sun to rise.

What a nightmare. I never dreamed of such a thing like this to happen.

I had to see it for myself.

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Phew! FINALLY! What was an endless toil to churn up something not exactly good, but remotely decent for my standards, I managed to come up with a bridge. It took me a whole four days to actually think right and finish writing this. Unconsciously, I wrote close to 6000 words, the highest I've ever written. Now, the bridge is built. All I have to do now is to cross the bridge so that I may secure the ultimate victory!

Sadly, that also means that this story would come to an end. At this I would like to raise a poll. I implore all reviewers and readers to participate in this poll.

**Terrorking Tragedian declares a poll for all readers:**

_Just like all quadratic equations in Mathematics have two possible answers, so does stories have two conclusions, possibly more. I had thought up of two ways to end this story. Will readers and reviewers please choose between the two choices:_

_1.A normal ending to the story. Basically a funeral, a burial, and an ending that says, "One year later, they come back and put flowers on the grave." Very cliche, and highly overused, but it is an expected outcome of the events; the usual conclusion to such tragic stories. The way I would want it to end._

_**2.An unconventional, totally original and completely new way to end the story. Might possibly prolong the story. A plot twist that turns the story into a much happier one, ending off with a magnificent positive tone. Not the way I would want the story to end, for this is essentially a tragedy, but a completely new way to conclude. And yes, it will be shocking.**_

So, what do you think should be the outcome of this story? The majority wins, remember. I have BOTH endings planned out well in my mind; in fact, the reason why I was so motivated to get this chapter over with was so that I could hurry up and put the last chapter down in writing! (Well, typing, actually) So please, VOTE by means of reviews! PM and email are also accepted; I don't care how you try and contact me.

Terrorking Tragedian


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